I will let you die honorably under this divine technique of mine

The reason the white-robed woman spoke such words was not because she was inherently wanton.

Su Ji being more handsome than Wang San was one thing.

But more importantly...

Su Jiu's identity...

A Nine-Tailed Heavenly Fox...

Though in Su Jiu's memories, the "Great Xia people" each had one, and they were reserved before even reaching adulthood—

In reality, the Nine-Tailed Heavenly Fox was on the same level as True Dragons and True Phoenixes.

Otherwise, among so many types of foxes, why would the "Great Xia Imperial Clan" insist on them?

Surely it couldn’t just be because they took the form of stunning white-haired, crimson-eyed maidens after transforming in their youth?

The "Great Xia Imperial Clan" was definitely not that shallow.

Just as True Phoenixes would only perch on parasol trees,

Nine-Tailed Heavenly Foxes would only follow a "Supreme Being."

Among spirit beasts of the same rank, Nine-Tailed Heavenly Foxes were at the very bottom in terms of combat prowess, preferring to rely on powerful figures for survival.

True Dragons and True Phoenixes could devour Golden Core cultivators as snacks even in their infancy.

Meanwhile, Su Jiu had to painstakingly swallow medicinal elixirs just to cultivate.

But where there was loss, there was gain—the fortune-blessing effect Nine-Tailed Heavenly Foxes bestowed upon their "masters" was downright terrifying.

A glimpse of this could already be seen in Su Ji.

Su Jiu herself, however, remained oblivious to this fact.

She had been misled by her clan’s records.

Blinded by the game.

The truth was not that those in the "Great Xia Imperial Clan" fought fiercely to decide who would claim the young foxes.

Rather, only those who stood out even among the "Great Xia Imperial Clan" could effortlessly take a young fox—otherwise, they’d most likely be hissed at.

......

Su Ji ignored the options that popped up.

No rush.

Judging by the outcome suggested by the first option,

Su Jiu was clearly guaranteed to win.

Let the two of them fight it out first.

No need for him to intervene for now.

At the moment, there was something far more important to deal with.

He turned and looked at Wang San, who was sprawled on the ground.

As the saying goes:

[When fellow villagers meet, a cold blade strikes from behind.]

[Chatting amiably while dismantling your walls with their hands.]

[Digging up your ancestors’ graves to sever the ties of yin and yang!]

The "Shining Frost Spear" was broken, but it didn’t matter.

When spear techniques reached the pinnacle, anything could become a spear.

Su Ji pressed his index and middle fingers together, a wisp of condensed spiritual energy coiling around them, the edges of his fingertips flickering with sharp intent.

He took a step forward, his figure flashing like lightning as his finger-spear thrust straight at Wang San’s face.

This strike carried no overwhelming force, but it was fast to the extreme—ruthless to the extreme!

Wang San shrieked in terror, scrambling backward in a panic.

"Blue Ice Grass! Entangle!"

The ground beneath him exploded, countless dark-blue vines bursting forth, frantically intertwining to block Su Ji’s advance.

Yet Su Ji was faster.

His movements were erratic, weaving through the gaps between the vines, his finger-spear stabbing, flicking, or slashing—each strike landing precisely on the weakest points of the vines.

Shards of ice scattered like snowflakes.

The defensive net of vines Wang San summoned was as flimsy as paper before Su Ji, torn apart effortlessly.

In mere breaths, Su Ji had closed the distance.

Wang San retreated step by step, utterly disheveled. He couldn’t keep up with Su Ji’s movements at all, forced to rely solely on the Blue Ice Grass for defense as his spiritual energy drained rapidly.

He couldn’t fathom it—how could the gap between them be so vast when they were both at the fifth level of Qi Refinement?!

"Worthless! Still holding back at a time like this?!"

A furious roar exploded in Wang San’s mind—the voice of the Blue Ice Grass.

"Hurry up and use that colored Destiny of yours to kill this brat!"

"What?" Wang San barely dodged a tricky thrust from Su Ji, his mind blank for a moment.

"Destiny comes in colors?!"

Blue Ice Grass: ???

It was stunned too.

Unlike Li Yao, a remnant soul at the Nascent Soul stage, it was a plant spirit.

A lifespan of 100,000 years was already its limit. Once it took root in Wang San’s consciousness, it no longer had the strength to uproot itself.

The reason it believed Wang San was a "Prodigy" destined to open the "Path of Heaven’s Chosen" was simple.

It had tested him.

In those trials—whether flayed alive, boiled in oil—

Wang San had gritted his teeth and refused to reveal what he gained upon breaking through to Qi Refinement.

Wasn’t it obvious?

If he guarded this secret so fiercely, it had to be a colored Destiny—what else could it be?

Surely no idiot would treat a white Destiny like some priceless treasure, right?

Would anyone believe that?

The Blue Ice Grass certainly didn’t.

"Then red! That’s enough to deal with this crisis!"

It urged again.

Wang San, still dodging, replied blankly, "Red? What’s that?"

"At least orange?!" The Blue Ice Grass’s voice trembled now.

"Mine’s white."

"Is that higher than colored?!"

In the face of death, Wang San finally blurted it out, no longer hiding anything.

He felt wronged—why was the usually knowledgeable Blue Ice Grass asking such strange questions today?

The answer was simple.

Because even in its 100,000 years of existence, the Blue Ice Grass had never encountered such an idiot!

"Fcking moron!!!"

The Blue Ice Grass felt its 100,000 years of cultivation crumbling in this moment.

It completely lost it.

Nearly withered from sheer rage.

But what could it do?

It had chosen this fool—now it had to live with it.

"Open your mind to me!"

The Blue Ice Grass’s voice was urgent.

Yet Wang San hesitated.

A sudden realization struck him—he thought he’d seen through everything.

"Old thing, you’re trying to possess me too, aren’t you?!"

The Blue Ice Grass nearly coughed up blood from sheer frustration.

This idiot—dumb when he should be sharp, sharp when he should be dumb!

"We share life and death now!"

"Hurry!"

But in that split second of hesitation—

A tremendous force slammed into Wang San’s abdomen.

Su Ji had seized the moment of distraction and delivered a vicious kick.

Wang San curled up like a shrimp, flying backward before crashing to the ground like a dead dog, dust billowing around him.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

He lay motionless, as if lifeless.

Just as Su Ji moved in for the finishing blow—

Wang San’s body twitched slightly.

"Heh… heh heh…"

A strange, stifled laugh gurgled from his throat.

Using his elbows, Wang San slowly, laboriously pushed himself up.

His face was smeared with dirt and blood, yet his expression twisted into manic glee.

The moment he rose—

A burst of icy-blue light erupted from his body!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Diamond-shaped ice plates rapidly formed over his skin, encasing him entirely in an azure battle armor.

A trident forged of the same glacial energy materialized in his grip.

Wang San hadn’t expected this turn of events.

In that life-or-death moment, refusing to open his mind—

The Blue Ice Grass, desperate, had no choice but to lend him its 100,000 years of accumulated power!

An unprecedented surge of strength flooded his limbs.

Visions of the future flashed before him—

Trampling Su Ji underfoot, embracing Su Jiu, toying with that aloof white-robed beauty.

He would stand atop the pinnacle of immortality!

As for repaying this power?

If he borrowed it through sheer skill—why return it?

This old thing seems to be of little use now. From now on, he might as well just serve as fertilizer!

"Su Ji!"

Wang San let out a furious roar, swinging his trident and summoning a bone-chilling gust of wind as he charged straight at Su Ji.

Su Ji frowned slightly but didn’t retreat—instead, he stepped forward.

Clang!

His fingertip collided with the trident, producing a sharp metallic ring.

A tremendous force, accompanied by an icy energy, surged through Su Ji’s arm, numbing it instantly and forcing him half a step back.

Wang San pressed his attack relentlessly, his trident whirling through the air with fierce momentum, each strike broad and unrestrained.

For a moment, Su Ji was forced into retreat, looking somewhat disheveled.

An inch longer, an inch stronger.

The disadvantage of his weapon was laid bare in this moment.

Su Ji failed to dodge in time, and the side blade of the trident grazed his face, leaving a shallow cut.

Warm liquid trickled down his cheek.

He retreated several steps, only stopping once he had put some distance between himself and Wang San.

He reached up and touched his face.

His fingertips came away wet and warm.

Staring at the smear of crimson on his hand, Su Ji suddenly smiled—a strange, inexplicable smile.

Indecision invites disaster.

A transformation?

He could do that too.

He’d simply avoided using it because he hadn’t wanted to bear the cost of the "forbidden technique."

Fortunately, he’d learned the [Flowing Flame Art].

Otherwise, with his spear broken, his combat power would’ve been severely diminished, leaving him at Wang San’s mercy.

Wang San mistook Su Ji’s smile for fear. "Hahaha! Without a weapon, what can you even do to resist?"

"Come on, stab me to death with your broken spear!"

Su Ji ignored Wang San’s taunts.

Inside him, spiritual energy began circulating in an entirely new pattern.

"It seems…"

The moment his words fell, a scorching wave of heat erupted from Su Ji’s body!

A ferocious, violet-black fire dragon, wreathed in flames, roared into existence behind him, coiling menacingly.

The dragon’s head reared high, its icy gaze locking onto Wang San with deadly intent.

Su Ji leaped upward.

Planting his feet on the dragon’s head, he achieved a semblance of "treading on air."

Arms crossed over his chest, he looked down at Wang San from above.

"Only when the fire dragon soars can life and death be decided!"

The blistering heat made Wang San break out in a cold sweat.

He stared at Su Ji, standing atop the dragon’s head, with growing unease.

Was this really something a fifth-level Qi Refining cultivator could pull off?

At a stage where even projecting spiritual energy outward was difficult—

How could he manifest it into form?

What kind of mastery did that require?

Weren’t you a spear cultivator?

And another thing—

Why?

Why were this kid’s visual effects ten times cooler than his own Blue Ice Grass?

They were both outer sect disciples—where the hell had he gotten this technique?

Lost in his doubts, Wang San failed to notice one crucial detail.

Su Ji wasn’t crossing his arms just to look cool.

He was doing it to make Wang San think he was showing off.

The pose allowed Su Ji to conceal his right hand perfectly.

His fingertip twitched slightly.

Behind Wang San, the broken half of the "Gleaming Frost Spear" began to tremble with a faint hum.

Su Ji smirked down at him. "I’ll let you die honorably—under the might of this technique!"

Su Ji never lied.